


Quotidienne

by propinquitine



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: mcsmooch, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-19
Updated: 2008-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 08:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24966466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propinquitine/pseuds/propinquitine
Summary: John's favorites might be the perfunctory kisses.
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Kudos: 12





	Quotidienne

**Author's Note:**

> Beta thanks to kimberlyfdr and M.

When they'd started this -- this thing between them that John didn't know how to name but involved everything they'd already had, plus kissing -- Rodney had kissed him earnestly. (Well, the first time, he hadn't really kissed him at all; he'd just stood there wide-eyed and open-mouthed, too surprised to respond. He'd balled his fist in John's shirt sleeve, though, refused to let him back off and run away, made him wait there until Rodney'd processed this new information, this shift in how they could be. John had been glad, not for the first time, that Rodney processed information pretty damn quickly.)

But when Rodney kissed him back, that first time and for a while after, he kissed so _earnestly_ \-- always with a split second of hesitation ( _what, really? we do this?_ ), then a sincere press of lips, Rodney straining forward, meticulous in his attention ( _we get to do this! I like this, really, I do._ ). John almost let himself worry, at first, that there was a question there, that Rodney was trying to convince himself that this was something he actually wanted. John couldn't bear the thought of being another person Rodney tried to change himself for. But then he'd feel Rodney clutch at his hip, lean into his chest when John drew his arms around him, sigh a quiet, happy little hum when they broke the kiss and were just resting in each other's space, and John would think that maybe he could give the worrying a pass, for now.

Then came the passionate kisses. They both eased into them slowly: John was a little scared, himself, by how much he wanted Rodney, how his long-suppressed desire for men in general demanded a very specific application to one man in particular, and he didn't want to spook Rodney by going too far, too fast. For his part, Rodney took some time to get used to the idea of sex with men (really, it was only a few days, and there was a shielding/ZPM power crisis in the middle of it, but to John it felt like _years_ ), but when he did he progressed quickly from curiosity to enthusiasm to flat-out _need_. Then their kisses took on a different character, a depth and a passion appropriate to being naked and in bed (sometimes even when they weren't, and John had a newfound affection for his office, he really did). They moved, too, expanded the area they covered from lips, cheeks, temples, necks to encompass shoulders, collarbones, chests, nipples, ribs, belly, and all sorts of fun places that made John shiver with want and anticipation. He was weirdly fond of the kisses Rodney would place in the crook of his elbow. (Maybe it was the way Rodney's eyelashes fluttered against his bicep, or how John could curl his hand around to stroke the nape of Rodney's neck.)

John's favorite kisses, though, were different. Different from the earnest kisses that sometimes felt like _please_ (as though John would deny him, or even could) and _I'm sorry it took me so long to figure this out_ (the alternative being something John manifestly did not want to think about); different from the passionate ones that distracted him from anything that wasn't _this, here, want, now_ , that made him forget who he was (though never who was making him feel this way). Those were excellent, mind-blowingly fantastic in a way that made him realize _oh,_ that's _what I was looking for_ , but somehow they weren't the ones John liked best of all.

No, his favorites were the perfunctory kisses, the ones he got when he came into the lab and stood at Rodney's shoulder, and Rodney would turn his face up in John's general direction, sometimes not even bothering to stop typing, waiting for that brief, dry brush of lips that Rodney wouldn't even really acknowledge before launching into his most recent explanation of what cool new piece of Ancient tech he'd found, or who'd earned the Moron of the Day award, or how he really hoped John's lateness wouldn't mean that that all of the cobbler in the mess was gone before they got there (and if it was, of course he knew who would be making up what to whom, and how). Or when Rodney would stumble into John's quarters late at night, stripping off his uniform and sneakers before climbing into bed, too exhausted to do anything but throw an arm over John's waist and nose his way in for a scratchy, whiskery kiss before nodding off, head still on John's pillow, because that's just what they did. Those kisses were simple, exchanging easy affection, touching base with each other, being able to depend on each other, relying on this thing they had.

John doesn't quite know how to name it, but he thinks it sounds a lot like _forever_.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the November 2008 McSmooch challenge; original post here: https://mcsmooch.livejournal.com/109312.html .


End file.
